


“Happy birthday, you piece of shit.”

by itsnotlove



Series: Happy Birthday [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Birthday, Confusion, I don't know what other tags to use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:35:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3872287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotlove/pseuds/itsnotlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No one ever celebrated the fact that Orihara Izaya was born."</p><p>A short work written for Izaya's birthday. No one knows or cares about Izaya's birthday, so why is he so excited when that day rolls around each year?</p>
            </blockquote>





	“Happy birthday, you piece of shit.”

No one ever celebrated the fact that Orihara Izaya was born.  
  
As a child, his parents were often away on long business trips and rarely remembered to call. They had been more focused other less important things, only barely aware that their only son was still breathing, still moving, and forever independent. By the time his younger sisters were born, his birthday had become a long forgotten tradition.  
  
It wouldn’t come as a surprise to the infamous informant to learn that no one (aside from his family and one other) even knew _when_ he was born, as his personal information was a well-guarded secret (unless the situation demanded it, but even _then_ you couldn’t entirely get the whole truth out of him). It would be even less surprising to him to discover no one he deemed important or interesting would celebrate the day he was born even if they were aware.

Given his situation, it was peculiar that each year on his birthday he awoke with a genuine grin gracing his lips and a warm feeling in his chest. This year, as he had done each year for some time, he sprung from his bed as soon as he awoke, eager to begin his morning. He knew better than to expect or want gifts from family or well-wishes from acquaintances (the thought of gifts would hardly be exciting in any case).

Skipping breakfast, Izaya almost sprinted from his apartment in his excitement, bouncing up and down in the elevator like a child in a failed attempt to force it to move faster. He wished that the train ride to Ikebukuro was shorter and laughed at the wary reactions from his fellow commuters. He knew he looked insane, trembling with anticipation, smiling like a serial killer, and giggling to himself. He didn’t care what his wonderful humans thought of him today, not when he was this elated.  
  
He was the first off the train, skipping through the station like a child as he expertly navigated a path through the sea of people. He made his way through the streets, frightening those who knew his reputation away as they searched for the blonde mop of hair that would surely appear now that Izaya was here.  
  
‘ _Search all you want, I have you all to myself today! You’re all mine, mine, mine!_ ’

He smiled broadly at the thought; his teeth flashing and a maniacal look upon his face. It was the same every year since high school and would probably continue for years to come. It took Izaya three years to discover this gift; he'd felt as though the first year had been luck, the second coincidence, and the third a pattern. There was only one who remembered his birthday, though he’d never receive a card or as much as an acknowledgement from them.  
  
Heiwajima Shizuo, his only true rival (though not intellectually, of course) and most hated enemy, never failed to remember his birthday.  Izaya could only assume his lack of a presence was his gift. Once a year, for twenty-four hours, Izaya would have free reign in the city of Ikebukuro. The monster would go into a voluntary exile, lest he give into his instincts and attack the proud informant.  
  
Neither Shizuo nor Izaya could explain why this occurred each year. They only knew it was an unspoken arrangement, and they'd each deny any knowledge of it they were ever asked. Izaya, for his part, would always leave hints behind for the blonde to find the day after. It was his special way of saying thank you.  
  
One year, it had been a knife impaling an unopened packet of cigarettes lodged into the outside wall of where Shizuo had once served drinks (until an altercation with his manager), conveniently causing a gas leak. Another year, it had been a small fire in an alleyway that had _somehow_ spread to engulf the car wash (and only the car wash) where Shizuo had been fired the week before. This year, however, Shizuo had managed to hold down a job.

Initially, Izaya had been stumped as to how to leave a mark. He hated the feeling and, feeling quite daring, decided it might be best to take his annoyance out on the person who caused it. Having become somewhat bored with his humans, he made his way to the set of run down apartments where he knew Shizuo was hiding. He laughed to himself quietly as he stalked up the staircase and counted the number of doors he’d need to pass before he found the one he was looking for.  
  
Trembling with excitement, his hand formed a loose fist and he knocked quietly on the wooden door, barely loud enough to be heard. He listened for sounds of life on the other side, frowning when nothing happened. He sighed dramatically and decided that, given that he was who he was, he required no invitation and would simply break in. The beast was hiding in there, he was sure, and Izaya was bored and would not be ignored.

He pulled out his lock picking tools, only to have a devilish thought. Shizuo had always kicked his door down, so wouldn’t it be fair for him to return the favour?

‘ _Perhaps that’s a Protozoan’s version of a polite greeting, so I mustn’t be rude!_ ’  
  
Stepping back slightly, he leaned backward slightly and used all of his strength to force the door open with a powerful kick. Wood splintered, giving way and forcing the door to open and slam itself onto the wall beside it.  
  
“Shizu-chan!” He called out into the modest unit--making sure to stretch the nickname out as much as possible--as he walked into the lion’s den.  
  
The sound of something heavy crashing into a wall in another room alerted him to the beast’s location. Walking with more purpose toward the sound, he smiled brightly. “Shizu-chan, you can’t hide from me! I’ll find you!”  
  
“Get the fuck outta my house, you bastard!”  
  
Izaya pushed open the bedroom door slowly, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. “You really shouldn’t spend all day in bed, at least open the curtains.”  
  
“If I did that I’d probably see _you._ ” Shizuo spat, “Why the fuck did you kick my door down?”  
  
“Isn’t that how you always enter my office?”  
  
“Like I’d ever go there!” fists shaking with rage, adrenaline surging through his veins, Shizuo fought himself to stay underneath the covers on his bed. “The fuck d'you want, louse?”  
  
“I wanted to play.” Izaya flopped himself on the bed, either unaware or uncaring of the danger such an action might place himself in, “I was bored!”  
  
“Tch.” Shizuo brought his knees to his chest, disgusted now his apartment had become infested. Still, he didn’t do anything to forcibly remove the pest. He couldn’t--not today--but he’d make sure to track him down and kick his arse tomorrow.  
  
“Play with me, Shizu-chan.”  
  
“Get lost.”  
  
Izaya snickered at the obvious strain in Shizuo’s voice, knowing just how close he was to snapping. It was exhilarating to be this close to a wild animal, and he doubted that even swimming with sharks (disgusting beasts) could give him such a rush. He decided to push further, harder, to see just how far he could take this today.  
  
“Tell me, Shizu-chan,” He purred, rolling onto his stomach and resting his head on his palm, “Have you ever managed to trick a human into kissing you?”  
  
“What the fuck?!” Came the loud reply, too fast and too indignant, “Why would I tell you that?”  
  
“So that’s a no, then.”  
  
“That’s none of your business!” Izaya chuckled to himself at the answer; only Shizuo could manage to respond with an answer that sounded equal parts embarrassed and threatening.  
  
“Wanna make out?”  
  
A foot flew in his direction and he barely dodged it, rolling onto his back and sinking into the mattress.  
  
“Fuck off!”  
  
“So even monsters can be shy…” Izaya thought aloud, moving himself slowly toward the beast. “You won’t hurt me today, so it should be fine. How about we play Spin the Bottle?”  
  
“Izaya- _kun_ …” Shizuo warned.  
  
Izaya paid no attention to the threat and pushed off the mattress with his palms, bringing his face close to Shizuo's. His breath was warm and wet and heavy, and their lips were only centimetres away from each other. He didn’t bring them any closer--Izaya having no real intention of taking this further.  
  
“I wonder if you’d kill yourself for letting me take your first kiss?”  
  
“…”  
  
Shizuo closed his eyes and scrunched his brow in an attempt to stave off the anger. Izaya didn’t know, couldn’t know, how much this hurt him. Shizuo himself was unaware of why it hurt, only concerning himself with the fact that it did. He didn’t know why he remembered the louse's birthday, or why he stayed away from him whenever it came by. Shit, he couldn’t even remember his own birthday half the time.  
  
He heard a small laugh and felt the weight on the mattress shift, the warm breath on his lips fading away. Their game of chicken supposedly over, Izaya the winner as usual. It pissed Shizuo off and he felt a new surge of uncontrollable anger flood his body, taking him over and forcing him to move.

His arm shot out before he could stop himself, fisting Izaya's shirt and dragging him closer. Eyes open, he watched as the parasite's smile only widened, amusement instead of fear behind his eyes.  
  
“Are you going to kill me on my birthday, Shizu-chan?” He teased, his arrogance never slipping.  
  
“I fucking _hate_ you.” Shizuo spat in return, hitting their foreheads together with enough strength to knock out someone less accustomed to the action. “I wish you were never born and that your parents had never met.”  
  
“If I had never been born, who would come and play with you?”  
  
Shizuo narrowed his eyes, staring daggers into Izaya’s. Izaya never doubted himself or his actions. He’d found something interesting, something worth the inevitable bruises and the stiff muscles. His grin stuck to his face, he wondered whether the beast would bite his nose off or punch a hole through his stomach.  
  
He hadn’t thought that Shizuo might unexpectedly take him up on his earlier offer.  
  
Neither could recall leaning in or the moment their lips touched in a surprisingly soft and gentle kiss, as if the instigator had been afraid of hurting his partner. It was simple and innocent--two things that could never be used to describe the two of them--and it only lasted for a few seconds. It was Shizuo who pulled away first, fist dropping from the Izaya’s shirt.

They didn’t look at each other; didn’t move a muscle, breathe or say a word for what felt like hours but was more likely minutes. Izaya reached a disbelieving finger to his lips, and Shizuo shifted slightly, watching from the corner of his eye.  
  
“Happy birthday, you piece of shit.” He said to his hands, barely loud enough to be heard. He had no idea what to say or if he should even speak. “I hope you get hit by a fucking truck and die already.”  
  
Izaya moved his fingers away from his mouth and turned to face the monster before him, an unreadable but undeniably softer look on his face. “Unpredictable as always, Shizuo.”

  
Shizuo looked up despite his better judgement at his first name being used properly, unsure of how to process the current situation. “Yeah…”  
  
Izaya leaned in once more, but stopped himself before getting too close. He forced himself away, off the bed, and toward the door.  


“I’ll see you next year.” He said, back to Shizuo and half-way out the bedroom door.

  
Shizuo watched as he left, only collapsing after he heard the warped wood of the front door try to close. He pulled the blankets over his head and his knees to his chest. “Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot!”  
  
Outside the apartment, Izaya had once again pressed his ear to the door and listened to Shizuo as he recited his new mantra. Smiling bitterly, he pulled himself away and walked down the stairs and to the general direction of the station.  
  
He had no idea what had happened or how he felt about it, but he was certain that it would all be forgotten by the brute tomorrow and he’d never be able to find answers. Izaya realised that he was unconsciously touching his lips once again and sighed deeply. It was a good thing he had patience, because he’d definitely be asking about this next year.


End file.
